


Unplanned

by buftie



Category: California Diaries - Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-12-25
Updated: 2009-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-05 06:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buftie/pseuds/buftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Ducky questions his sexuality is when he's fourteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unplanned

**Author's Note:**

> pre-series. ignores canon a lil bit.

_**.age:14.**_  
Day in the life of a stalker.  
Sort of.

Today was weird. Sure, the Cro Mags ripped you a new one. You ate lunch with Alex and Jason. Cro Mags made more fun of you and actually managed to make you trip and meet face-to-face with your locker door. On top of that you failed your math test which you forgot to study for.

But in between all the bad things that happened it was weird. You think maybe Alex got a haircut or wore new clothes because from the moment you meet at his house to go to school you keep looking at him, like you're seeing him in a whole new light and you can't stop.

You blush furiously at the end of the day as you lean against your locker, glad the day's over. You're just standing there like some creep, watching your best and closest friend load up his locker with books. You see Alex is heading towards you and immediately busy yourself in twisting the combination wheel, nose brushing the cool metal and shoving your head uselessly into the cavern of your locker. You hear his footsteps stop at your shoulder and pull your head out.

You don't know how you survived being with him for hours, ignoring how you blush because you're such an idiot for giving him furtive up-and-down looks because aren't you supposed to look at girls that way? Usually you enjoy being with Alex, but today you just want to go home even though it's empty and the only company you'll have are the piles of garbage, dishes, and clothes.

Home alone you think that having improper thoughts about Alex must be a phase. Don't teens go through phases when they're confused and think about things like this? Doesn't everyone? You hope so because honestly even though you try to ignore it, you know you're already "eccentric" enough.

 

STOP  
STOP  
STOP

You will not stare at your best friend.  
You will not stare at your best friend.  
You. Will. NOT.

**I** will not.

 

Or not.

Or you will stare because you're ridiculous.

Jesus, Ducky. Pull it together.

 

Saturday.  
A day at the pool.  
With Alex.

It's starting to get hot in Palo City so it's only natural that you go to the swimming pool. You realize this may not have been the smartest thing because you have to admit you think you might like Alex in the way guys aren't supposed to like other guys. Alex makes your stomach do funny things and your heart race and a lot of times when he's in your dreams you wake up embarrassed.

You can't believe you just admitted that. You thought maybe if you never wrote it down, never admitted it, it wouldn't be true.

The worst part? They're not even sex dreams. You've never even had a sex dream. Alex is just there.

But this is all a phase. This your mantra. It is just a phase.

It's hard to belive this when the sight of Alex shirtless and skinny makes you blush and look at your feet before you pencil-dive into the pool because you just want to hide.

_**.age:15.**_  
It was an accident.  
A stupid accident.  
You think.

You don't know why it happened. You don't know why you did it. You do know that it was the dumbest thing you ever could have done. Ever. Period. End of story.

You're so embarrassed and ashamed and afraid Alex will never talk to you again that you can't even write it down. But you have to because it sometimes makes things better.

You kissed Alex. Alex. Your best friend Alex.

What is wrong with you?

Maybe it isn't a phase and it scares you more than anything. But let's take it from the top because even though it wasn't even close to A Shining Moment in the Life of Ducky McCrae, you don't want to forget it.

You and Alex did what you do a lot when there's no school (today in particular it's because of report card marking) - you ride your bikes to your spot under the bridge and spend the day there. You're laughing and joking and you and Alex are using your ESP skills to psych each other out because it never fails to thrill you. Behind all this you war with yourself. Should you talk to Alex about the unnatural feelings you're having for him, the unnatural thoughts you're having about guys? You'd trust him with your life, but unsure if you can trust him with this.

He might freak out and run away. Never speak to you again. Or worse - tell everyone. You already get told all the time how faggy you are by the Cro Mags. You don't need to give them any fuel. But it's crazy because you know no matter how uncomfortable Alex might potentially be with your confusion about what gender you like, he would never rat you out to everyone. Have a little faith, McCrae.

A comfortable silence floats over you both as you pluck blades of grass and have a contest to see who can make it squeak louder, grinning stupidly at each other the entire time. You blow the grass away when your lips feel raw.

You feel like it's now or never. Say something or forever hold your peace. You need to talk to someone because maybe it's completely normal and you have nothing to worry about. But you can't be like everyone else can you? You have to look to him and have him smile back. You have to gnaw your lips in worry and lick them because they're dry.

And of course you have to press your lips to his, which part slightly in surprise (and disgust you're sure). He's frozen and you feel hot tears of stupidity and embarrassment prick behind your eyes.

He's speechless, silent, and you want to explain, but the tears are making a lump in your throat. You want more than anything to explain. You try to use your vocal chords but a dry, strangled noise comes out. Alex won't look at you. He's staring awkwardly into the grass and you start to cry like a little kid. Everything is so tense that he doesn't even try to comfort you; not that you expect it.

"Alex," you hiccough because you need to talk. It's not an option. You won't let him go home until you tell him. Maybe not tell him anything, but tell him something. He barely twitches in your direction, but you know he's listening, waiting for you to speak. You realize that's what he's been doing. Waiting. For an explanation.

"I'm sorry," you mutter. "It's just. . . I'm all confused." You feel more tears leak, warm and salty as they slide down your face.

"About what?" he whispers back.

"I don't even. . . I mean. . . I don't know. . . if. . . I. If I like girls. I dunno. I mean, what if I'm. . ." you can't even say it and your breath hitches repeatedly and your chest feels restricted like too many hiccoughs at once and you can barely handle it. You can't breathe. Alex hesitantly touches your back. You can feel the strain in his movement. It's awful of you to have put him in this position. You should have just kept your mouth shut and off of his.

"We should get home," he suggests. It is getting dark and you have no idea what time it is. You have no idea if this helps or fixes anything.

You most certainly have no idea if Alex will ever want to be alone with you again.

You are such a screw up.


End file.
